


Light the Way Home

by Kisuru



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Gen, Post Rebellion Story, Rebellion Story Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2825465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisuru/pseuds/Kisuru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Homura’s new universe Sayaka has watched Madoka for an entire year. Though her memories are skewed, one way or another she will bring Madoka to her senses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light the Way Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aurons_fan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurons_fan/gifts).



> Despite the fact I think this story turned out confusing, I think it makes sense in its own way. My theories are kept ambiguous. Either way, I ran with what I could to make this plot idea work. I’m sure this is not what you expected for a post-Rebellion story. Still, I hope this fits your fancy.

Every single day Sayaka dreamed.

Sometimes Sayaka did not understand her dreams. Hynotic was the only word for them, a fleeting dance of colorful arrays and galaxical star systems she swore she never saw before. Yet, deep down in her soul, a familiarity rang true.

Most dreams faded quickly from her memory. After waking in the morning she would stare at her ceiling. As if she had been in another lifetime—no, another world and existence as ridiculous and unorthodox as it may seem—she felt as though she had seen this scenario time after time in rapid motion. School. Family and friends. Magic.

The dreams had all been as realistic as an artist’s vision etched directly on a physical canvas. According to the notes she wrote as historical evidence day in and day out, her dreams proved authenticity.

Buzzing. The tune of her cellphone alarm vibrated on the dresser next to her bed. Purely classical, the sound drifted throughout the room in a cheerful melody, violin strings plucking along in bubbly rhythm. Kyousuke had mentioned the piece as one of his favorites at one point, so naturally she had chosen his suggestion.

Sayaka groaned and rolled under her covers. Going back to sleep was not one of her top priorities, but the covers spoke to her, smothering her arms and legs in an irresistiblely warm embrace.

Fumbling, Sayaka unlocked the screen and tapped to her messages. 

[i]Awake yet? Meet me at school and I'll bring breakfast. It'll be my treat after you let me borrow your notebook![/i]

Oh, and Kyouko. Kyouko counted as someone she knew beyond the constraints of her memory. Though they had gotten along in this world, become best friends perhaps, Kyouko was not Madoka.

Madoka was not who should be in this universe. 

Now that woke her fully. Sayaka laughed. Kyouko would pay for breakfast. With her own money. Somehow that had a humor she just could not shake free of.

 _Yeah, I'm coming. And it better not be pocky sticks and apples like last time you treated me!_ Ordering Kyouko may not help anything. Oh, well.

Normally, Sayaka are at home with her family. As mundane and normal smelling a hot brew of coffee and rice each morning was, there was comfort. Sometimes, no matter what time of the day it was, she thought how much she did not want to leave them.

Sayaka pushed herself out of the bed. She stretched and then padded her desk. After all, her bed would be too obvious a hiding place for such an important item, Pulling out the chest underneath, Sayaka paged through the black book and skimmed the previous day’s observation.

She smoothed her fingers over the diary’s smooth, glossy black binding. Inside were all the fragments of memories she had juxtaposed together, the ones Madoka needed to know to return her powers. True, these memories were the ones she barely believed herself, but she had sealed them as her precious connection to reality nonetheless.

Most of all, Sayaka did it to keep her sanity.

And whenever she forgot how long Homura had kept her in this world, she could reread her recount over the past years. All of it seemed otherworldly. Memories vibrantly blazed to the forefront of her mind's eye before blinking out of a existence like a comet tail crossing the moon.

If she played her cards right she could only hope for a miracle. 

✘—✘

For some reason Sayaka could never train her eyes away from Homura when she entered the classroom. She always sat at her desk. Silent, watching, cunning and quick-witted to banish anything she considered a threat; the devil she had become shined through whenever possible. No matter what, Homura seemed prepared to learn like any studious junior high girl her age.

Sayaka knew better, of course. Even at critical times when her memories were distorted and jumbled, she just had that sense, or the one that told her she could not be trusted.

“Hi, Sayaka-chan!” Madoka waved at her from the back of the room.

A simple greeting nearly felt like a slap in the face. It was friendly, but a little distant, as if they had not been friends for all their lives. In that other world, Madoka and Sayaka had been the best of childhood friends, and Sayaka could never forget that no matter the force of storm or sun.

“Heya, Madoka,” Sayaka said with her usual enthusiasm. Plopping down in her chair, she started to take out her textbook. “I am not ready for that math quiz today! Are you?”

Sheepishly, Madoka peered over Sayaka’s shoulder. No doubt she had locked eyes with Homura. “Homura-chan tutored me last night at her house. I think I might pass the test!” Her smile was so genuine before it fell on the count of bragging. “Sorry, Sayaka-chan.”

“What?!” This did not surprise her at all but she could pretend. “No fair! Teach me your ways, oh great Master of Mathematics!”

Madoka giggled. “I could try if we hurry.”

Friendship did not translate to this world. In this world, Sayaka had recently become familiar with Madoka. To Homura, she supposed, it was a “fresh start” in concurrence Madoka enjoyed her company.

The transfer student from America, Kaname Madoka. That girl indeed was an anomaly. Sayaka only shook her head some days when she could not remember how exactly.

Yet again, that was not completely accurate. Madoka had transferred into her class over a year ago. She was no longer a stranger to her classmates; everyone loved her because she made friends easily. Knowing famous American celebrities didn't worsen her popularity, either.

"By the way, would..." Sayaka paused, peering from the corner of her eye at Homura. Her glance was not returned. "You like to come to my house later? We can do homework, or watch a movie, or play a video game. I even have the new _Magical Knights_ game."

Her eyes lit up. "I would love to!" Madoka's sunny smile was enough to tell Sayaka she thought idea lovely.

✘—✘

When Sayaka and Madoka walked through the high glass doors marking the school's exit, they spotted one of the upperclassman named Mami near the fountain. 

"Maaamiiiii-chan!"

Out of nowhere a blur of white and orange attacked Mami. Nagisa threw herself at Mami’s torso, wrapping her hands around her waist in a tight, protective snuggle.

“I said you could trip if you ran, Nagisa-chan,” Mami sighed. She patted Nagisa on the head.

“But I was careful. Mami broke my fall,” she protested. When she spotted Sayaka and Madoka, Nagisa’s smile shined as bright as a ray of sunshine. “Hey! Where are you guys going?”

Seeing Nagisa without memories of the dream world hurt, too. Perhaps it was for the best because she was now a normal little girl living her life to the fullest.

All the same, she had been reduced in power from Madoka’s original intent to save Homura. And that could not be any better for Sayaka’s cause.

If Nagisa came along . . .

Even in their current state Nagisa knew who Sayaka and Madoka were. Sometimes lasting friendships proved to be useful when truly necessary.

“We’re going to play a game at my house!” Sayaka called.

“Ohh! Can I go with them for a while?” Nagisa asked Mami hopefully.

Mami bit her lip. "Did you do all of your chores around the apartment?" Sheshifted the bag on her arm.

Nagisa bobbed her head. "Everything's clean. All clean. Even my bed is made today."

"Hm. And you did all your homework?" Mami lifted an eyebrow.

Nagisa pouted. Seeming to hope they would be a good distraction, she looked between Sayaka and Madoka. Neither one of them gave her an escape route, but Madoka shook her head apologetically.

"Can I do it after dinner?" Nagisa begged. "Please, please. I promise I'll do it all tonight!"

Mami eyed her with a sort of stern, affectionate look. Eventually her gaze softened. Saying no to Nagisa was impossible. "If you start with your history homework first."

"Okay!" Nagisa cheered.

"And if you do it all before bedtime, I'll let you have a special snack.”

"Snack?" Nagisa echoed.

Mami tilted her head. "My special homemade cheese puffs with tea."

Nagisa's eyes rounded as wide as saucers, lit up like fireworks blazing across the horizon. She grinned up at Mami and nodded. She stepped back to join Sayaka and Madoka. 

“Be careful on your way home!”

Many times she had trudged this same path with Madoka. Not in this universe. Not even once. Millions of things could be said, but Homura overhearing would cause a disaster. Homura held every advantage.

Homura did not bother following Sayaka everywhere, obviously. Did she expect Sayaka to rebel? Not in any substantiality. Still, Sayaka had to be cautious and make sure she acted quickly to snap Madoka's memory back into focus.

Tonight would be a long adventure.

✘—✘

Fine wisps of black hair shimmered in waves of cool wind. The dark silhouette of one Akemi Homura against the falling curse of sunset meant nothing to the normal eye. In this shape, or this distorted space, she could not be stopped.

Keeping constant surveillance over Madoka 24/7 would be pointless. As much she would love to watch Madoka day in and day out, Homura restrained herself. Madoka would think that was beyond reasonable terms of a “friendship”. Besides, Homura had no need to stalk anyone when she knew her universe’s workings without a hitch.

Today was a day she had to watch.

A long time ago she had warned Miki Sayaka to behave herself so Madoka would like her. But Sayaka never quite been the type to sit back and allow what she believed to be injustice. She had taken steps in order to take action.

Homura soaked in the sight of rolling building Mitakihara over the rooftop. This was her perch, a tower she could see anything in the entire city as she saw fit. Nobody could hide from her. Not even the labyrinth of a witch could effectively stash away had witches been present in her world.

With one ferocious flap of her wings Homura soared above the skyline. She was visible to no passerby walking through the streets.

✘—✘

Nowadays it was becoming obvious. The flimsy strips of despair worked against Madoka and threw off the balance in the space around her.

Literally, it was despair. Sayaka had doubted it at first. What with Homura’s world supposedly a new beginning (the whole thing was an illusion and never would be more), there should not have been any signs of Madoka’s Soul Gem’s collection of despair anywhere in sight.

But there were. They were almost transparent, or at least to Sayaka.

Sayaka could see the shadow following Madoka as she walked; the cast of light shone on her differently than months ago when her powers had been tightly sealed. Every day she was closer to breaking free of Homura’s binds. And every time she stopped to help someone, the despair continued to grow—the black-purple light would engulf her body, and Madoka would seem lost in a daze, not quite intact.

Nagisa skipped happily behind the two older girls on the stairs to the upper level of Sayaka’s house, none the wiser to anything amiss. Eating Mami’s cheese puffs after dinner would be an absolute delight!

But Madoka and Sayaka were Nagisa’s friends. Any friend of Mami’s had always been her friend, too, and she knew Mami would have come if she hadn’t gone straight home to cram for midterm exams. Usually Nagisa stayed at Mami’s side to make sure she wasn’t lonely when she studied, but Mami probably needed the extra concentration

“Sayaka-chan, you have such a nice room!”

Madoka’s eyes flitted from the bed to curtains and then rounded about the whole interior. She admired each touch and detail.

Nagisa made herself right at home. She flew at the bed and plopped on top, cuddling a cheek into the pillow.

“Haha! It’s not that much,” Sayaka laughed, “Actually, I have something to ask before we start playing. Do you want to see all the writing I have done? I need an opinion.”

“What kind of writing?” Madoka asked eagerly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Are they stories?” Nagisa wondered.

Sayaka dug into her the chest behind her desk and pulled out the black diary she had used for a whole year to record Madoka’s progress in this world. Madoka gave the tiny book a quizzical glance, picking out the animal stickers on front.

"Look inside, Madoka. Look at all of the notes I’ve taken over the last year.”

Madoka opened the book and thumbed through its contents. Surreal drawings and neat text popped out instantly, and Madoka found herself enamored when she finally landed on a page with golden eyed girl.

“’The Story of a Goddess’,” Madoka read from the blocked caption.

Nagisa bounced on the bed. “A goddess? Does she have a pretty white dress and wings?”

“She does!” Madoka seemed a little caught off guard Nagisa was right.

“Really? Let me see!” Nagisa begged. She rested her chin on Madoka’s shoulder to see the book. “Oh! She’s really, really pretty. And she kind of looks like you!”

Madoka felt her cheeks warm. Impossible! Sayaka’s picture had so much more to her than Madoka did, and a part of her reminded Madoka of her mother. Her mother was stylish and beautiful, that was certain.

“N-No. She’s so beautiful,” Madoka protested. “I’m not as beautiful as she is.”

“That’s because you don’t realize how cute you are!”

Sayaka blinked as soon as the words were out of her mouth. She had never said that to Madoka directly. Or had she? Somehow she wanted to poke Madoka for that comment, but Sayaksa refrained from such familiarity, dropping into her desk chair. Weird.

“Well, anyway, skip to the next page and read,” Sayaka said.

Turning the page, Madoka noted the next bits of text. In her eyes it read like a fairytale.

“’Dreams are not always what you expect them to be. Sometimes you can dream for anything you want, and sometimes you can dream to make others happy. There may be a choice and there may not.

Once, in not a world too far away, there once resided a goddess who helped to spirit away magical girls after their jobs were done. She took the pain of each girl needing her so they wouldn’t be sad. Human or beast, she kept a careful watch from anywhere and everywhere at once. But it was not just any being; she watched over magical girls wishing to keep their wishes close to their hearts.’”

“She sounds nice,” Nagisa commented. “To not let them feel down about themselves.”

Madoka nodded and continued.

“’Every girl who had completed their wish, or who had fulfilled their purpose, met the golden-eyed goddess. She swept from the sky in a chariot and landed next to them.’” Madoka paused for a moment and stared at the next words as if she had seen them yesterday. “’She told them, ‘You don’t have to be afraid anymore, because I’ll make sure you never feel despair again —you will only feel hope.

After that, the goddess took each girl to a planet far, far away. No magical girl knew about this world before this disappeared; all they knew was that they disappeared because of their Soul Gem. The Law of Cycles was the cause of this, the power that binds hope and despair and the power of an equal balance.’”

Sayaka shifted. It had taken her so long to come up with all of this and make heads or tails of it all, and she still was not sure if she was accurate about the finer issues. Wasn’t it just too amazing to be realistic? Homura played with her memories, That she could not forget. Others she would recall things out of the blue and hold onto them as steadfastly as possible until she could grab a piece of paper and a pen.

Perking back up again, Sayaka heard it. It was a distant sound, but she heard Madoka’s voice drift just like the wind through tree leaves, as if she were waking up from a long and arduous dream.

“’On the planet, the magical girls lived harmoniously. It was a paradise. Rolling mountains, fields of flowery meadows bathed in color, and an oceanfront showing a sparkling sapphire sea.’” Madoka licked her lips, images of the scenery coming what seemed to be natural. It bordered on much too vivid. “’Next to the sea rested a mansion.’”

“Oh, a mansion!” Nagisa squealed.

Madoka smiled at her enthusiasm. “But the mansion was so spacious, the goddess felt lonely being there all by herself with her two helpers. The goddess wanted to know the magical girls she had known, to gather all of their stories. So, she sent a message out to the soul of every magical girl and asked them to join her in the mansion. Nobody would be lonely and she would have lots of friends . . .”

Madoka trailed off. She did not make another movement right away.

Good time as any. “Flip the page. See what’s there,” Sayaka advised.

For a moment the question of whether or not Madoka would do as instructed seemed to hang on the edge. However, she did flip the page, only to find a cat-like pair of eyes and long, floppy ears staring back at her soullessly.

“Kyu . . . bey . . .”

She cried out in agony. Memories, large and small, flooded back from out of nowhere and everywhere at once. Clutching her head, Madoka gasped.

Madoka turned into a statue. Almost. The book trembled in her hands. She blinked, eyes flickering the richest yellow brighter than any star.

Sayaka rose from the desk chair and strode to the bedside. She firmly grabbed Madoka’s hands between her own, alerted when she felt how coldness set in and the warm began to slowly ebb from her body. "Madoka, listen to me. I need to tell you something, and you need to remember right now!"

Madoka blankly stared at Sayaka. Whenever her mind was distance separated the two of them before she returned, though none less aware than she found herself to be of her true identity. "S-Sayaka-chan?"

Nagisa had lapsed into watching silently. Her expression twisted, however, and a steely expression of understanding brightened her face.

Sayaka took a deep breath. Playing her cards right here would mean Madoka would recall what she was. No, who, and she would see Sayaka and Nagisa’s role in this, too.

“But the goddess in my story also carries the despair she takes from the magical girls,” Sayaka said quietly.

Nagisa scooched backwards on the bed. At first glance she did not realize why, but the sight of Madoka suddenly floating in the air proved quite the spectacle.

Revelation unveiled, Madoka’s entire being shook like a leaf. From the base of her head to the soles of her toes she glowd in a heavenly luminescence of swirling white and pink. The fluttering train of a white dress materialized on her figure, wavering in a nonexistent breeze.

“And then . . .”

Sayaka did not release Madoka’s hand through any of this. Partly because she never wanted to after all she had been through, and partly because she didn’t want Madoka accidently to hurt herself. Slowly, though, the power surrounding Madoka began to pull her hand towards the ceiling. She took a breath and leaned back on her heels.

Sayaka planted her foot on the carpet in determination. “In this world, the despair works negatively with the energy here. The energy that _she_ has. Your despair and what she calls demonic power cannot coexist here anymore.”

So much more to the explanation could not be summed up so readily. For that matter, explained well in effective terms. Sayaka could not even tell her properly, but the cross existence of despair and demon did nothing but cause Madoka suffering down. That was, even if the pain was not affluently obvious through her everyday smiles.

“I-I don’t . . .” Madoka stared at the window, hands lifting towards the sky, or a sky now inked same color of blue pen Sayaka had written her notes with.

Leaving would be important. Yet there was one final moment of business to attend to, and Sayaka was not surprised to hear the request.

“I remember, but I can’t leave. Not until I see . . . see Homura-chan.”

“You won’t have to find me. I’m right here.”

Sayaka whirled to head-on face Homura so quickly she nearly thought her head would twist off. Smackdab in her room was indeed none other than Homura herself, black wings and dress contrasting that of Madoka’s purity more than ever.

Madoka’s doubtfulness almost seemed tangible. “Homura . . . chan,” she breathed, craning her neck to the side. A tear slid from her eye and dropped on the bedspread.

Homura’s lip twitched. Other than that on the surface it appeared she was not affected. “I see that you’ve finally returned to how you once were,” she sighed. “I told you once before, we would be enemies, didn’t I? I think the time has come.”

Madoka waved her hands. “But I still don’t _want_ to be your enemy!”

Homura’s lips quirked, the smug look intensifying. Sayaka did not flinch the slightest bit when Homura took a step forward. “It doesn’t matter; this is the result of our wishes finally coming to haunt us. I allowed you to do this, you know —bring her back to her senses.”

Heat rose in her chest. How dare she say that!

Despite it all, Sayaka empathized with Homura. Whenever she remembered Homura's suffering outweighed anyone else in this universe for Madoka's sake, her heart wanted to burst and bleed for the numbing pain. Neither of them had seen eye to eye during Homura's struggle from hopping timeline to timeline in a never ending cycle.

But there was a breaking limit. She could not condone locking Madoka in this cage for what might have absolutely been forever. It was happy dream. Yes, everything they had all wanted in the previous worlds as she understand the logic, but she could never regret feeling that cheat life that way had repercussions.

Empathizing did not mean Sayaka would let her off the hook, though. Homura had made mistakes, and Sayaka had made them out of her own validations for Kyousuke. Now, Sayaka could balance whatever she could with or without Madoka delegating negotiations.

Emphasize was difficult when Homura stared her down in a manner that suggested she was lower than dirt. Usual recognition consisted of that between them, actually, but not now. Not when she was so close to accomplishing her plan.

“You let me? And I thought you always wanted Madoka to be happy!” Sayaka spat. “Why don’’t you —“

All she would have to do is call on Ocktavia’s powers. Luckily, she could still use them here at her discretion. Even if she was in her room and Madoka was not up to pair, Homura could simply go away from these mistakes. Sayaka was about to move just as Homura held up a bored hand.

“That won’t be necessary,” Homura said. “I’m going to let you go freely.”

“Correct me if I am wrong, but are you implying —“ Nagisa started, bewildered.

“I’m sorry, Madoka.” Homura cut her off, “but you don’t want to stay here. And I thought you would want to, but I see now I just can’t. We clash too much, my universe and the despair you carry on your shoulders.”

Madoka sniffled, then her expression softened. Deep down she had always been a soft-spoken, gentle person, but she was no longer the same person —or rather, entity —Homura had known before Kyubey had granted her wish. And Homura was the same for Madoka in that respect.

The difference and similarity between Homura and Madoka now was that both of them were leaders fighting for their own beliefs in the insane cycle of universes.

"Homura-chan, I'm sorry, too." Madoka’s eyelids shut, clasping Sayaka’s diary to her chest.

Not much had to be said to Homura to express her feelings. An argument did not even require saying to show the disappointment and confliction in her heart; Madoka already knew what the future could possibly have based on this outcome.

Yet Madoka had everything in the world to still let one of her oldest, closest friends know. And then . . . Then, after that, Sayaka would come with her again, a friend with her both in life and death through completely differing agendas. Those musing could wait for another meeting.

"You made this world for me, didn't you?" Madoka asked.

“Yes.”

One word. Just one word stabbed worse than any blade.

“Part of me wants to stay, Thank you for trying to make me happy, for the time we had. I was happy seeing you. I enjoyed all the fun we had here together, you and the others.” Faint light began to glow around Madoka. The light rapidly increased all in once, blindingly white in an encompassing ball. “But I don’t agree with you.”

Silence reigned. Sayaka and Nagisa crowded closer to Madoka in anticipation to leave. Abandoning this world would be for the best, though Sayaka did feel a sting at not seeing the Hitomi and Kyousuke again. For that matter, Kyouko was also on that bittersweet list, as well Mami was the same for Nagisa.

The white light exploded. And then there was nothing but emptiness.

✘—✘

Without Madoka nearby, Homura felt as if her purpose had been stolen from her. Yet she had released her under her own personal decision.

All these months of being together had been spoiling. As she had said, Sayaka had been allowed to rekindle Madoka’s memories, and Homura had lifted the universal shield she had entrapped Madoka inside.

Homura leaned against the glass window next to Sayaka’s bed. She stared out at the twinkling stars. No moon had come out tonight, but the splotches of electric lights in houses far and near were enough to show the town she had created in full.

“Farewell, Madoka.”

One day, Homura would come face to face with Madoka and reunite in ways which may not be savory. Just like a hundred times in those years Homura had sacrificed herself, she would wait until the time was right.

Yes, she and Madoka were enemies. But Homura, despite the crimes she had committed after entrapping Madoka, this had been inevitable. The conflicting act of compounded despair in her world had to end. And as much as she didn’t want to throw Madoka back to the afterlife she had devoted herself to, she could let it go today.

Homura could not wait for their reunion.


End file.
